


Too Much to Ask (For Something Great)

by Hllangel



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1363462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hllangel/pseuds/Hllangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why couldn't Nick's childhood dream have been drive time? </p>
<p>Or, early mornings are a pain in the arse sometimes, but sleepy popstars in Nick's bed go a long way towards making them better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much to Ask (For Something Great)

**Author's Note:**

> I was talking to [Sunsetmog](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog) about the return of the YSL jacket, and how giddy Nick seemed this morning, and after we professed a shared love of sleepy morning blowjobs, this happened. Many thanks to her for the encouragement/beta. Any mistakes remaining are my own. 
> 
> This is a work of fiction based on real people. If you are one of them and you are reading this, I'm so sorry.

Morning always comes too early; Nick suspects that he will never get used to how early he has to start his day for the Breakfast Show. Not that he's complaining, it's still his dream job, and he loves doing it. Even so, sometimes the early starts are a bit wearing, especially on days like today when he's still got a sleep-warm, naked popstar clinging to him in bed. Harry doesn't even move when the first alarm goes off at 5:20. It's fine, Nick doesn't really move when the first one goes either. The first alarm is meant to be turned off. 

Those last five minutes of peace don't really last, though. He turns off his alarm and rolls back over into Harry's shoulder, breathing in the warm, unadorned smell of his skin, still fresh from the shower last night. He noses at Harry's shoulder a bit before rolling onto his back to grab at his phone and turn off the second alarm. He pulls Harry with him though, letting Harry flop over on top of him, their legs tangled together, his arms loose and heavy on Nick's chest. 

"Five more minutes," he whispers into Harry's hair. 

Harry doesn't say anything; he never does this early in the morning. Instead, Harry mouths at Nick's bare shoulder, right at the juncture of his neck, Harry's nose nudging at the corner of Nick's jaw. It's so quiet and intimate, this interruption into Nick's morning routine, the world shrinking to the two of them in this bed, Nick's full awareness focused on Harry's lips against his skin. 

When Harry starts moving down, Nick lets out a quiet moan, pushing up against Harry's mouth on his collarbone, his shoulder, his nipples, anything Harry can reach without actually expending any extra effort. Nick has never managed to understand how Harry can move like this, how he's still sleepily pliant and tangled up with Nick and yet still managing to position himself to give Nick a morning blowjob. The kid is a modern marvel, and he's _Nick's._

Before he gets too distracted he grabs his phone and opens up Whatsapp to send his usual morning message to the others, to let them know he's awake. Ian and Finchy have already sent theirs, but it's not unusual for him to be the last one to check in. He's also really glad that they have a tradition of morning texting instead of morning phone calls. That done, he gently tosses the phone on the bedside table and concentrates on twisting his fingers into Harry's hair. It's never been short, really, but it's exceedingly long now, standing up in all directions first thing in the morning. He helps make it worse, tugging and twisting the curls around his fingers. 

Harry's arms are squished up between them by the time he's taking Nick into his mouth. Between the sleepiness and the ever-present worry that he's going to be late for the show, Nick isn't fully hard yet, but it doesn't take long with the way Harry is lazily mouthing at his dick. 

Nick knows that Harry has good technique, he's taught Harry a lot of the tricks he knows, and Harry is wickedly good at thinking of new ways to use that ridiculously lush mouth of his, but he's using none of that now. He's just licking and sucking at whatever part of Nick's dick is within his reach, not using his hands, which are squashed between them, at all. Still, though, Nick is responding, warmth spreading out into his limbs. He can't help tightening his hands in Harry's hair, using his grip to reposition Harry and his mouth for a better angle. Harry goes easily, opening his jaw and sinking down on Nick's cock. 

He rolls his hips, slowly thrusting up into Harry's mouth. They don't do it like this often, tending towards more frantic, desperate, needy sex, given that they don't get to see each other often. Mornings like this are a luxury, and Nick is going to take advantage of that as much as he can. 

It doesn't take much to move into a slightly better position, half on his side facing Harry, cock still in Harry's mouth, letting Harry work him over with a sloppy tongue. He reaches down and tugs one of Harry's arms up, tangling their fingers together at his hip, before lazily thrusting into Harry's open mouth. 

Nick wishes he could see him better, but the duvet is in the way, and he's not going to move enough to fix that. He can imagine, though, can imagine Harry's red, swollen lips stretched around him, dimples showing, eyes closed, looking equal parts serene and obscene. He loses his rhythm at that, hips stuttering, Harry's teeth grazing him. It hardly makes a difference, though. Harry moans around him, the added rumbling vibrations spreading through Nick and pulling his orgasm up into his skin. 

He's so close but he doesn't want this to end just yet, even though the loudest and most annoying of his alarms is going to go any minute; the one that is actually Finchy's voice yelling at him to get out of bed. He doesn't speed up, really, but he tightens his fingers in Harry's hair, guiding him and holding him in place so that Nick can fuck his mouth. 

It takes another minute before Nick is actually coming, a slow roll of pleasure from the tips of his fingers and toes in and back out, spilling over into Harry's mouth as his fingers tighten in Harry's. Harry swallows him down and keeps going for a minute before Nick rolls over onto his back, Harry following and resting his head on Nick's hip, unmoving except for small half-twitches of his thumb like he's trying to rub patterns into Nick's hand and can't be bothered to find the energy to actually do it. 

Nick's phone vibrates, and he throws an arm out to silence it before pushing down the duvet. He can't quite move yet, because he's still being used as a human pillow to a more than half-asleep popstar, and the sight makes his chest hitch with something he's not going to name at this ungodly hour of the morning. Why couldn't his childhood dream have been drive time? 

"Up you get, Hazza," Nick says, brushing Harry's hair back off his forehead so he can see if Harry's eyes are even open. 

They aren't, but they do part slightly, and Harry blinks up at him through his lashes, face blank and sleepy. 

"I can't be your pillow forever, I've got to go to work." 

Harry buries his face in Nick's stomach for another long moment before doing that moving thing again, ending up with his head on Nick's pillow, the long lines of his body pressed up against Nick's side. Nick can feel that Harry is hard against his hip, but Harry doesn't seem to be doing anything about it, which is probably better for everyone involved; especially Finchy. Nick really can't be late. 

He leans in closer and kisses Harry, slow and deep and still sleepy, like Harry was never fully awake in the first place. Maybe he wasn't. Eventually, though Nick pulls away and tucks the duvet securely around Harry's shoulders, leaving only the tiniest sliver of his face and a giant mess of hair visible on the pillows, a dark mess against Nick's white headboard. 

"I'll see you later," he whispers, fingers smoothing down a stray curl that's fallen in front of Harry's nose. Harry snuffles into the pillow, his breathing evening out into sleep again. 

Nick takes one last look before grabbing his clothes and a jacket and heading into the lounge to get dressed, relaxed and smiling. Maybe the early morning hours aren't always as bad as all that.


End file.
